


Served

by Kitexa



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tragedy, inspired by a song, modern-ish AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitexa/pseuds/Kitexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven Darkholme was no murderer.  Not by instinct. Not by experience. She’d only ever raised the gun in vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Served

She knew better than to believe them. The facts, rumors, whichever they were she _knew_ Charles was not at fault.  Any man kind enough to take in a child from the street and defend her against his mother until the woman consented to raise them alongside one another could _never_ murder anyone. She doubted he even knew how to wield a weapon, much less what half of them were.  A science teacher through and through—he’d even gone gray around the temples, a trait she’d never ceased to tease him over.

_“For heaven’s sake, Raven, you act as though it’s uncommon.”_

_“I never said it wasn’t.” She remembers chuckling, plucking at the silver,_ _“only that it suits you!”_

Oh… he had not been happy about that, shooed her away before she’d had the chance to apologize.  That hadn’t been the best of days, but hours later found the two cuddled up on the sofa, engrossed in a film and buried in popcorn bowls.

Charles had been a good man, indeed.

Good and unsuspecting. . 

He’d gone away that weekend—a teacher’s conference out of state. Unusual, but not unheard of, for someone of Charles’ caliber.

_“You need to reach farther,” she’d told him the night before, “you could do so much better than high school education.”_

_Her brother only clicked his tongue. “I like where I teach, thank you.  I feel as though I’m making a difference.” If that’s what he wanted he should run for Mayor, she’d joked. He’d rolled his eyes, returning to the stack of papers on his desk._

That was the last of him she saw before the trial.

In hindsight, Raven should have considered consequence of action. Had planning been a strength, she may have. _Would have would have, you never meant for this to happen._

Not all of it, no.

If Charles had done the sensible thing and come home when he told her there would be no issue, no trial, no _hanging_. But he had, and in doing so upset her meticulous balance. He wasn’t supposed to see, was NOT supposed to know, little sister would fix everything before he’d even begun to guess her driving force.

And she did have one. Contrary to, well, her graduating class, Raven Darkholme was no murderer.  Not by instinct. Not by experience.

She’d only ever raised the gun in vengeance.

For some time now, there had been talk around town. Murmurings here and there, the odd glance, nothing explicitly noticeable unless one knew where to look.  Wrapped up in the good of mankind, Charles chose to overlook them—believe the man he loved was as he appeared the day they met.

Raven knew otherwise.

Knew better.

Not at first, no, at first she believed as Charles did. Erik Lehnsherr carried an air that would put …some European ruler… to shame.  A suave smile, sharp eyes—and a body worth drooling over… even if she had suspected treachery, everything he was crushed distraction to rubble.

 _“He’s perfect,” Charles had practically gushed, the night before a dinner date._ She hadn’t anyone to go with, of course, but someone needed to ensure they survived the car ride home. If it were to go where she assumed. And it did…oh, it did. Charles may have been a genius among men but the poor guy could not hold his liquor. Three, four glasses at the most before his sense of self wavered; falling into Erik’s side, hissing unspeakable things in his ear, it was enough to churn her stomach. _Of all things, Charles…_ she remembers thinking. Erik found it amusing, hoisting him up on the way to the restroom. Freshen up, sober up, and go, that was the plan and one she’d counted on. ‘Third wheel’ was not a title Raven enjoyed.

Five minutes, ten, she wasn’t sure how long but after a time, she’d begun to realize neither brother nor his date had returned. Revulsion curled her features—temporarily—recalling Charles arguably inappropriate behavior. _If he’s giving head in there, I swear—_

That’s when she first noticed him. Hovering in front of the men’s room, Charles nowhere to be seen, chatting with an elegantly-dressed blond woman. While his expression appeared no more than cheerful, her body language spoke volumes. A flirtatious fluidity oozing with temptation. Sickening. Again. Because he was not hers to flirt with. 

Raven tried to flash a scolding look, seconds from breaking the two up, when Charles at last emerged, looking a little worse for wear. She’d sworn the taller of the two men almost choked, abandoning previous interaction to aid the other back to the table.

“We’re leaving,” he announced, and Raven didn’t complain. The event sat heavy on her mind, but she waited until her brother sobered up to confront him.

He dismissed her, immediately.

_“Don’t be ridiculous, Raven. Erik is a handsome man, it’s unsurprising we all want a piece of him~”_

She’d scoffed, wrinkled her nose and called him stupid, as she always did when miffed, but the conversation dropped soon after.

 For a while, she nearly talked herself out of her suspicion. That it was irritation over her unwanted ‘second place’ in Charles’ eyes painting Erik in a negative light. After all… she’d found him attractive once, surely she’d feel that way when misgivings died down.

One would think… and hope, she had hoped. Better attraction than a two-timing tramp. Charles never complained, not then, not after, and when the men went out alone he came home exceptionally thrilled. Proof if ever there were.

But then of course another occasion called for her services and Raven realized with rising pity (and anger, anger too) that no, it wasn’t her, Charles simply did not _see._ Too damned star struck to question anything he did save for his request to pay the bill.  Not that Charles held all blame: Erik’s timing seemed impeccable, acting only when he felt himself free from devoted eyes.

For Charles’ sake only did she hold her tongue.

Until Erik tried to seduce her.  

At first, his presence at her door merely surprised her; perhaps Charles called and asked him to ship whatever it was to his temporary residence out of town. Maybe Erik had simply forgotten the teacher’s conference. She wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care: whatever it would remove him from the residence as quickly as possible. A simple conversation, as it usually was: Erik his vibrant (snaky _snaky_ ) self, trying to charm her over... something, she couldn’t remember, nor was it valid at the time. Her memory kicked in only when he mentioned Charles.

“What do you think, mmh?” He’d asked her, drawing a pause. The answer lay in mystery, torn between the cold cut off or gentling let down. She didn’t need a snippy schoolteacher on her hands.

“About… what?” Raven answered carefully.

“Charles.” The name slid smoothly from his mouth, bringing with it a pensive look. “Am I wasting my time with him?”

 _What?_ “What?”

“You heard what I said.” And here that coolness blanketed his face. Save for his eyes. There was something in his eyes—something that set her on edge. Then, now… as did his action. A careful hand slid to her chin, concealed in a way she didn’t notice until he drew her eyes to his.  “I wonder if perhaps you might prove me a better match--”

Courtesies be damned, Raven _slapped_ him, yanking free—somewhere between vile disgust and heartbreaking horror. For Charles, all for Charles.

“You’re a prick, Lehnsherr.” She spat as she stalked away. He deserved better, her brother did. Good men shouldn’t suffer such shamefully shattered hearts. Because it would, if not through her confession then Erik would find some other way, cut him off, she didn’t know or care, but something needed to be done.

If he’d just come home on time, everything would have worked out.

 _“I’m telling you, I’m innocent!”_ He’d cried as they took him away. The first and only time she’d seen him so frantic in a public display. Charles may not have had the most spectacular career, but kindness carries farther than expected: the townsfolk knew him well, as did they his victims. A Ms. Emma Frost and one Erik Lehnsherr, allegedly murdered side by side. A classic tale, were ever there one. The lover-betrayed driven from rational thought in attempt to soothe their wounded soul: a second sin to join the first in a heap of blood and soiled sheets.

So the story goes.

They never found the second body.

A secretive smile dons her lips, sealing the trunk of her car. Though every day spent without Charles hurt more than the last, there was something to be said for this sort of unsettling justice. The good guy didn’t always win, but that didn’t necessarily hand victory to the bad guy, either. Ultimately, the loaded barrel has the final say.

And she found Erik guilty.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "The Night the Lights went out in Georgia."
> 
> Someone please tell me if I should have rated this fic something else...


End file.
